by Kristi Ayers
When I stood in front of the microphone with my guitar and looked down at Holland sitting expectantly on the couch, my stomach suddenly dropped. There, not five feet away, was the girl that had flooded my subconscious with her presence for I don’t know how many days, and now she was about to listen to me sing. For all that is holy, please let my voice work today.
Conflicted thoughts wanted her to announce she needed to go, while others wanted her to stay and be impressed with our music. And me.
Douglas absently thumbed his bass, but then Adam’s drums filled every corner of the room and we instantly fell into a song. It wasn’t our typical warm-up song. He bypassed that one and went for a newer one we’d been working on. He was showcasing himself because the drumbeat set the mood for the whole song.
I didn’t look at her while I sang, although I sure as hell couldn’t forget she was only a few feet away. The song was slowly building. I hadn’t warmed up my voice, which was mistake number one. And mistakes number two, three, and four. As the song built in intensity, full of grit and force, right at the peak, my voice cracked. I wanted to believe no one noticed, but Adam had. His cuss words filled the room as Douglas let one note linger then fade. I stared at the wall, teeth clenching behind my closed mouth.
“Max, I don’t understand how you can sing it perfectly last time—many times before—and then fuck it up so badly. How does one get worse?” Drinking caused Adam to say whatever the hell he was currently thinking. No filter. No regard for the possibility of humiliation.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Holland stand up. I didn’t blame her for leaving. The whole room felt tense.
But she didn’t go to the door. She went to Adam, and in a low, stern voice that I could barely hear, she spoke near his ear. His face paled and then he nodded, his eyes cast down to the floor. Douglas and I shot a questioning look toward each other, his shoulder lifting in a shrug as we paused to see what would evolve from this odd exchange. She turned toward me then and motioned with her hand to follow her. Douglas grabbed my guitar and nudged me.
I met her in the kitchen, where she was opening a few cabinets until she found a mug. She filled it with water and warmed it in the microwave while she sought out a saltshaker, unscrewing the top, and then pouring a bit into the mug after the water was warm enough to her liking. After stirring it well, she held it out to me. “Here, gargle this. Do you know if he keeps bags of tea here?”
“Doubtful.” I held the mug and peered into the liquid as if it would give me answers to how she tamed Adam like a lion.
“Gargle,” she gently urged. So I did, feeling odd doing it in front of her.
“Okay, does he have honey?”
I spit into the sink. “Maybe in his bedroom.”
She gave me a confused look that slowly morphed into exasperation. “Eww.” We let a moment pass to rid our mind’s eye of that picture. “Okay, when you get home, drink warm tea with honey, or even just a spoonful of honey in warm water with a squeeze of lemon. You’ll want to drink lots of water. Singers should always stay hydrated. Avoid milk before you sing. It sounds soothing, but it’s not good. Also, no alcohol. And if you can find it at the pharmacy, get some slippery elm.”
“Slippery what?”
“Slippery elm. It’s an herbal remedy. Singers swear by it.”
I wasn’t sure how a part of a tree could help my throat, but I supposed I could give it a try, since Holland seemed to know so much.
“And before you sing next time, you’ll want to do yoga and deep breathing exercises.”
I laughed. “I don’t need to get relaxed and all Zen-like. We do pop and alternative rock.”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s to open your diaphragm, get it loosened up. Then you need to do vocal exercises. Humming, sighing, vocal slides, tongue and lip trills. Body, blood, and breath. It’s all tied into one another.”
She was impressing me beyond measure. “How do you know all this? Do you sing?”
Her face changed to fit her thoughts, which were no longer in this kitchen. She was seeing something sad, and I immediately regretted asking. “My sister did.” She glanced up at me with moist eyes and offered a small smile, one that said she’d perfected holding her head high in sad circumstances. “She died. Three years ago.”
“Oh, Holland. I’m so sorry.” Before I could say more, she nudged the cup of saltwater that was still in my hand.
“Keep gargling. And if you could, please don’t say anything to Adam.” She glanced toward the studio. “About my sister.” She wanted to keep it private. And she trusted me enough to do so.
I nodded. “No problem.” And then I took another salty mouthful to gargle and spit.
Holland walked with us back to our dorm that night, but she said goodnight at the stairs and climbed them alone. Douglas and I turned down our hallway, and maybe two minutes went by before he said, “Wow. That girl is a firestorm. She silenced Adam with just a few words and made you fall for her with just a few more.”
My step slightly faltered. “She—I didn’t–” I shook my head. “Shut up.”
He chuckled and dove into a video game, giving me a little reprieve. I hoped my face wasn’t that readable to everyone.
Later that night as I lay wide awake in my bed, my thoughts repeated the entire evening. Rewind. Play. Rewind. I’d cringe at the part where my voice failed me, but other than that moment, I was happy to commit every detail to the vault. Except the instant Holland’s mind left that kitchen and went back in time three years ago. I’d endure my voice cracking a thousand times over rather than witnessing that fleeting moment of quiet despair. Curiosity pricked the back of my mind and I wondered how such a young person died. I assumed they were relatively close in age. Was it a car wreck? Or cancer? Those were the two things I knew had taken a few of my classmates. I couldn’t fathom losing one of my sisters, even though they each got on my last nerve when I lived with them.
Across the room, Douglas blasted out the loudest snore and I knew I was going to need a lot of coffee in the morning just to keep my eyes halfway open for classes. With him, if I didn’t fall asleep first, then I could forget about getting any rest.
Morning came too soon, and coffee couldn’t be plentiful enough. I doubled the scoops, which earned me a few choice words from Douglas.
“Gah, man, why did you have to make it thick as oil? Tastes like it too.”
“Funny thing. A jet boat took up residence in your bed last night. Imagine my surprise.”
“Sorry, man,” he apologized sheepishly.
I tied my hair back with a band and left for my first class of the day, not caring that I probably grabbed a dirty T-shirt to wear. I was too exhausted to care. My hoodie covered the wrinkles on the T-shirt, and I had my travel mug of “oil,” so it was all good.
But not two minutes later, I damn sure cared. Holland was rushing out of the dorm building, her long hair in loose ringlets catching the cool wind. She spotted me immediately. “Good morning, Max. Did you try the tea and honey?” Her eyes were bright and alive.
I instantly wished I’d taken more than three minutes to get ready this morning. And that I’d searched out a dorm neighbor for some tea. Or honey at the very least. “No, I didn’t get a chance. But I will.”
She smiled knowingly. “You don’t have any, do you?”
Embarrassed, I smiled down at the concrete we were walking on. “No. I need to make a trip to the store.”
“No need. I have some I can bring you.”
Bring to me? Did I need to run back after classes and make my room presentable? I couldn’t even blame Douglas for being a slob because I wasn’t exactly Mr. Tidy either. “Sure. That would be great. Although, if you’re busy, I can just go buy some.” I didn’t want to sound too eager.
“Not busy at all. Is five o’clock okay? What’s your room number?” She must have realized how that sounded and backtracked. “Or I can meet you in the Common Room. You probably have practice tonight.”
�
�No, we actually have tonight off.” Only because Adam’s girlfriend had nothing else to do. “And you can come to my room if you don’t mind Douglas talking to you while his eyes are glued to his games.”
“That’s fine by me.”
“Cool. Room thirty-six.”
Chapter 4
Holland
Max and I walked across campus until he had to take a different sidewalk toward a tall stone building. We said we’d see each other later and I watched him walk away.
I was curious if he had a major chosen yet, but it was hard to imagine him in anything but music. His shoulder-length brown hair, dark hoodie, and scuffed black boots didn’t fit pre-law or pre-med. He also wore a couple of silver rings on his right hand. He was the quintessence of a rock singer. His voice proved that last night. Aside from the little vocal crack, he had a great range. Anyone who didn’t have a vocal coach wouldn’t know all the little tricks of the trade. Watching my sister’s voice lessons taught me what I thought was useless information since I played the violin, but it looked like it just might come in handy. If I could expend a little of what I’d learned, maybe I could help Max and honor my sister at the same time.
When I walked into my dorm room last night, Violet, my roommate, who had a remarkably active social life, bombarded me with her day’s stories. That lasted until she asked me how my day went, and of course I couldn’t get away with vague details. She wanted to know all about Adam.
“Is he drop-dead gorgeous now?” Her eyes felt like they were probing my brain for the answer, and at the same time hoping for juicy responses.
I didn’t really know how to answer that. Yes, he absolutely was, but he had a girlfriend and that I made sure I mentioned. I wasn’t going to play matchmaker for her. Truthfully, her striking, devil-under-the-angel beauty drew in enough guys from frat parties just with a coy look from her big sea-green eyes. She didn’t need my help. Eventually, she let me go to sleep, but I’d still be paying for it in the morning.
My classes the next day were busy, but after they were over, I was free to job hunt a little bit. The coffee shop was still a possibility, only because the prospects elsewhere were small, since I had no car to my name. I’d chosen to sell it, in desperate need of money. I cursed under my breath as I walked the entire campus, stuck inside my head and wishing my past had been different. An alternate outcome. If it had, I’d still have my sister.
After I pondered making specialty coffees, I fleetingly considered the possibility of working in a bar but decided while the tips would be good, the unwanted attention from slimy drunk guys would not. Back to the coffee shop. One positive was that it was close to the dorm. If I knew a storm was coming, I could go in early or stay late. I’d never get stuck out in it.
A quick check of the time on my phone told me it was almost four thirty. I needed to get back to my room for the tea and honey. I hoped Max didn’t think I was being too bossy with my remedies. His voice sounded slightly husky this morning, but it also looked like he just rolled out of bed. Not in a bad way…
Violet wasn’t in our room to hold me up and I was in front of room thirty-six in no time, hand raised to knock, when a flood of butterflies let loose in my stomach, and I froze. What if Adam was in there? I knew he supposedly had an evening planned with his girlfriend, but it was still early yet. Yesterday, he gave me an unexpected rush equivalent to a roller coaster with just one admission: “I had the biggest crush on you in high school.” Thankfully, Max and Douglas walked in not long after that. Their presence seemed to snap Adam back into the present, and remnants of high school then faded like smoke.
I nearly went back to my room, except the mental voice of my sister urged me to knock. The first tap was weak, unsure, but the next few were stronger, my will igniting. The door opened to Max, smiling shyly, his blue eyes sparkling and happy as they looked down at mine. He was great at making eye contact, a trait some guys didn’t possess.
“Hey. Come in,” he invited. His hair was down, and his clothes were different from this morning. Now he had on a black long-sleeved t-shirt, dark jeans, and boots. A simple silver chain hung around his neck.
“Thanks.” I stepped into his room. Without thinking, I blurted, “So what’s your major?” Oh God, that was probably rude. But we were in college and everyone had one. Or would at some point. I was undoubtedly nervous and not used to conversing like a normal human being.
He ran his hand through his hair and said, “Well, I’m still undecided, so I’m trying to dip my toes in a little of everything. Of course, I need to declare my major soon or I’ll never graduate. How about you?”
“Music,” I admitted.
He looked surprised. “Wait, if you don’t sing, then…”
“I play the violin.” I remembered the tea and jar of honey in my hands. “Oh, here you go. The honey is raw. I hope that’s okay.”
He took them, a soft smile on his lips. “Yeah. I really appreciate it. Would you like some with me?”
It dawned on me that Douglas wasn’t in the room playing video games like I was told he would be. I felt awkward, like I could have been intruding on Max’s study time. “You probably have stuff to do, studying, papers. Douglas must be giving you time to work in peace.”
Max looked over at what I assumed was Douglas’s messy bed. “Oh, no, he had to do a paper in the library.” Then he looked at me with hope, his eyebrows raising slightly.
“Okay, sure. Tea sounds nice. You can tell me how you got started singing. And how you ended up with Adam.”
He got two mugs, filled them with water from the sink, and stuck them in his microwave. When he gave the raw honey jar a calculating look, I laughed.
“A small spoonful should do for each cup. It dissolves just a little slower than regular honey, so mix it well.” It was something else to see this rocker of a guy make me tea, equal parts awkward and sweet.
“Yes, so Adam, our common denominator. You may want to sit because everything about him is complicated.”
I glanced around the room and decided on the chair in front of a desk. Max handed me one mug and took his to sit with on his bed, the one neatly made.
“First, I need to mention Douglas and I were neighbors growing up, so when Adam showed up, we kind of just got along with him, you know? He looked nothing like he does now, which I assume you already knew.”
I nodded and took a sip, the string from the tea bag hanging over one side of the mug.
“But that’s what guys do, just fall into friendship without stigmas or judgment. It was the summer before our senior year when Adam wanted to start a band. I thought I’d just play guitar, but since neither Adam nor Douglas could sing, they unanimously voted me singer.”
“So you didn’t want to sing?” I couldn’t believe he didn’t volunteer for it. His voice was amazing.
“Absolutely not. I can’t stand being the center of attention because of stage fright. I can tell you my major will never be drama or anything with public speaking.”
I let out a rolling laugh. His life was like one big contradiction. What rocker didn’t want that kind of attention? I fought back my giggling as best I could. He didn’t seem to mind, though. His amused smile lit up his whole face, his beautiful blue eyes smiling as well.
“Sorry, I’ve never met a reluctant singer before.”
“Only reluctant in front of a crowd. And sometimes just three people.” He looked to the ground and held back a smile.
Another giggle escaped before I could harness it in. He leaned back on one arm, smiling over at me, and maybe slightly blushing. “I’m sorry.” I forced myself to reel in my amusement. “I swear I’ll stop now. If it helps at all, I love your voice. I mean, from what I heard yesterday.” I blushed from my sudden admission.
With a smile that slowly slid into a serious look, Max admitted, “Well, I really like your laugh. And I want to hear you play the violin sometime.”
Now my humor sobered. “Sure. Just say when.”
Our eyes loc
ked for a few beats before he answered, “There’s a practice scheduled tomorrow at Adam’s. You can come and play there if you’d like.”
My breath caught. I wasn’t sure I wanted to dredge up more memories for Adam. And playing for Max seemed a bit intimate. He wasn’t someone judging my technique, something that I was used to after many competitions. This was unfamiliar territory. “What time should I be at Adam’s?” Was I really going to do this?
“Seven o’clock. It will also give me the opportunity to redeem myself.”
“Max, you have nothing to worry about. All singers have the occasional blip. I know my sister had her fair share.” I fell silent then.
Concern crossed his features. “Holland, I know we only recently met, but know that I’m a good listener if you ever need one.”
The offer was very sweet, but my sister was a subject I usually didn’t talk about. I had a difficult enough time with assaulting flashbacks. “Thank you, but it’s getting late and I really should be going.” He flinched, regretting his offer, since it appeared to have scared me away. I tried to soften the moment. “My roommate kept me up late, so I want to catch up on some sleep.” I put my mug by the sink. He stood up and did the same.
“Sure. Actually, mine did too, but I bet yours wasn’t from incessant snoring.”
I laughed. “No, thank goodness.” His worried face relaxed some since he’d successfully made me laugh. I didn’t want anyone feeling sorry for me, and usually, I held the mask on securely, but with Max being a singer, all these little wounds were involuntarily creeping open. At the same time, I wanted to see him succeed because he really did have a beautiful voice. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He saw me to the door. “Goodnight.” I smiled up at him.
“Goodnight, Holland.”